


Stop petting my car!

by msarahv



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adorable Castiel, Drunk Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 13:23:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4830653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msarahv/pseuds/msarahv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a drunk guy tapping Dean's Impala and mumbling and that won't do. Until he hears the actual words that is.<br/>Fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stop petting my car!

Dean walked out the bar on steady feet. This was quite a feast and he was proud of his liquor-holding skills (shut up, beer is a liquor. And of course, so are the whiskey shots he inhaled afterwards ) but nature had been the strongest. He had to pee.

 

While he was indeed watering one of the bushes, he suddenly heard something.

 

There was a guy, standing next to his car (his baby, what the fu...) patting it. Dean ran to him, full of rage, but his wrath was spoiled by his zipping his pants up.

 

He took a breath of fresh-ish air to calm down and raised an arm to pat the man on the shoulder but froze when he actually understood the fuddled mumbling:

"Good dog, good dog..."

He couldn't stop the roaring laughter that came out of him. Okay, maybe he was a little more drunk than he had estimated, but frankly, this was hi-la-rious.

 

Pained eyes met his.

"Why you laughing at this... this dog? It's a nice doggy."

"Dude, it's no dog... You are plastered. You should go back in, find the people you're with... leave my car alone..."

The man opened his mouth, but then, his glassy eyes seemed to focus for a moment as they landed on the metal he was still tapping on:

"Ohhhhhhhh...." He smiled goofily. Dean couldn't help reciprocate.

 

Now the guy was leaning on the hood and a murder might have to happen. It was a pity, the guy was cute. Dean pushed one of his fingers and watched with fascination as the whole body started slipping down slowly until the man was a heap on the floor.

"Gzwlpf"

"Alrighty! I'm helping you back inside. Who're you with?"

"Who?"

"Your friends? Or date? Or, I don't know, siblings?"

The man shook his head whining:

"I have no date. Poor old Cas, me. All alone."

Cool, now he had a name. It was a start.

 

What wasn't helping was how heavy he was. He looked so thin but in fact it was an illusion. The arms were ripped. There were muscles under that stained shirt.

"Now, walk, buddy."

"Buddy? Am I your friend? How niiiiiiiiiice!"

 

Between the chuckling and the panting and his own alcohol content catching up with his brain, it took Dean a really long time to get back in the bar. Plus Cas would turn and point at the Impala, shouting:

"Sit! Sit! Good dog!"

 

The bartender looked like a grumpy bear. Dean dropped the drunk guy next to the counter.

"Found him outside. He's really gone. Can you keep an eye on him?"

"Nope, if your friend had too much, take him home. 'm not a baby-sitter."

Dean wasn't either but man, look at those trustful eyes!

"I'll go look for his friends and if I don't find them in ten minutes, I'll take him out of your hair. Sounds right?"

Cas had closed his eyes and was really still. Dean sped up.

 

Dean asked around but it was taking too long. So he pushed one of the man who was bending on the pool table and climbed on it:

"Hey everyone, someone knows a Cas? I think he's about to pass out. He's next to the counter."

Somebody grasped his thigh and he fell, face first on the floor. He was lucky there was a thick carpet here. A voice said behind his ear:

"So, man, if you had asked me, instead of making me lose a chance to win big agains the rich losers I was playing with, I would have told you that I do know a Cas and even maybe thank you."

Dean was trying to sit up but was pushed back by the pointy end of the cue.

 

He came home bruised (his arm and his ego), shotgunning his baby because the bar tender (Benny he was called) had taken his keys and told him to call his brother to pick him up and now Sam was lecturing him. That's what he was getting for being a good Samaritan? He was completely sober, thank you very much. That's why, the reason he fell asleep after five minutes, was because Sam was boring and that was it.

 

* * *

 

Three days later, he was actually sober (which was a good thing, car parts all around could be deadly if you were clumsy) freshening up his baby at the back of Bobby's garage when someone tapped his shoulder.

"I beg your pardon."

 

The voice was completely familiar and impossible to place. Dean turned slowly. He met blue eyes and smiled:

"Oh, hey, Cas right?" He grabbed a cloth to clean the oil from his hand. He wished he had a comb.

 

"I have been made aware that you have been helpful in retrieving me from an embarrassing situation?"

"Come again?"

Cas hesitated, then tilted his head, looking shameful (and hot as hell):

"I'm here to thank you. My brother said that you found me inebriated and took time and effort looking for him."

"Oh, okay... Don't sweat it man. It was no trouble."

"Are you certain that a financial retribution isn't needed?"

"Nah.... I mean you were kind of heavy..." the man was blushing, now. Dean grinned, charmed: "But it was so funny. You seemed to think my car here" he tapped the hood (and yes he was the only one allowed to do that) was a dog."

 

Now Cas was scrunching his face:

"This is undignified of me. I can assure you I don't normally drink so much. As it happens, I was miserable and needed distraction. Gabriel proposed a night out and I was foolish enough to follow him."

"What were you miserable about? Just curious?"

"I had found out my partner had cheated on me. It was very distressing."

Dean patted the man's arm clumsily, mumbling vaguely comforting thing.

"Sorry Cas, happens to the best of us..."

"Oh, my name isn't Cas."

"Really? Why did you tell me it was?"

"I believe in my drunken stupor, I couldn't pronounce it correctly. It's Castiel."

"Okay... Gonna stick with Cas if you don't mind."

"As you wish. I'm really sorry to insist, but I have money. I can give you some."

 

Dean finally took his hand away and said:

"I've changed my mind. I'll take it..."

"Excellent!"

"In the form of you paying for coffee. On Friday night?"

 

* * *

 

"I apologize for mistaking this beautiful automobile with a canine, Dean. It's quite magnificent."

"Well, I love dogs too, so it's alright."

"Do you? I love guinea pigs..."

Cute.

"And sheeps. But those I can't own at home."

Even cuter. Dean was a goner.

So after the coffee, he got Cas just a little tipsy on beer and spent the evening his chin in his hand, watching an adorable Cas explain in great details why guinea pigs rocked. In the end, he was quite convinced and scored an invitation for the next day to meet Igor.

 

"Igor, seriously? Does he have scars or a hump?"

"No, why would it?"

"Frankenstein? 'Yes, massster...'?"

"I do not understand that reference. He is named that way because I am of Russian descent."

"You are? Your brother too?"

Castiel was smirking. Dean liked that even better.

"Brother tend to share origins, yes. I have asked my mother if he was adopted several times but she is adamant he isn't."

Dean put a hand on Cas' and whispered:

"I can tell you only one of the brothers got all the looks and that isn't him."

 

* * *

 

Igor was the coolest little guy ever. Dean spent his afternoon doing "tktktktktk" sounds and didn't regret it.

He asked Cas for Vodka cause he was Russian and all.

"I do have a bottle but I'd rather not drink too much."

"Why not? You're cute when you're drunk. I like it."

Castiel's face was blank for a minute, then he helped himself to a full glass. 

It turned out Cas couldn't kiss properly when he was boozed up. But man, Dean was still planning to get him drunk a lot because the guy was an octopus. And while Dean would punch you in the face if you insinuated that he loved to cuddle, that was still true.


End file.
